It was a scene few could have imagined just a few years ago. Afghan Taliban Foreign Minister Amir Khan Muttaqi arrived in New Delhi for a week-long visit — the highest-level Taliban engagement with India since the group seized power in 2021. Delhi, which once firmly backed the Western-supported Afghan government ousted by the Taliban, is now hosting the new regime’s top diplomat. The visit signals a remarkable realignment in South Asia’s strategic landscape. That the Taliban’s relations with Pakistan — its erstwhile patron — have soured so quickly, while India has cautiously opened dialogue, marks a profound shift in regional equations. The discussions on trade, diplomacy, and economic cooperation reveal the pragmatism and realpolitik now guiding both nations’ foreign policy.

To grasp the current context, it is necessary to briefly revisit the history of the region.

Border of unending turbulence

The Afghanistan–Pakistan border, stretching 2,670 kilometres along the Durand Line, remains one of the world’s most volatile frontiers — more than a geographic divide, it is a rift of history, ethnicity, and power. Empires and ideologies have collided here for centuries. From the Durrani kings to the British Raj, from Soviet invasions to the U.S.-led “War on Terror,” this rugged landscape has been a corridor of conflict and ambition.

The turbulence began with the Durrani Empire (1747–1823), founded by Ahmad Shah Durrani, whose realm stretched from eastern Iran to northern India. But even this powerful dynasty could not control the fiercely autonomous Pashtun tribes whose loyalties lay with clan and code, not crown. The British inherited these unruly lands after annexing Punjab in 1849 and, seeking to secure India’s northwestern frontier, drew the Durand Line in 1893. What was meant as a line of influence became a political border that split the Pashtun heartland. Afghanistan never formally recognized it, and this historical grievance still fuels cross-border hostility.

After the partition of British India in 1947, Afghanistan refused to endorse Pakistan’s new frontiers and even voted against its admission to the United Nations. Kabul’s demand for a separate Pashtunistan deepened mistrust, sowing the seeds of the rivalry that endures today.

Soviet era and rise of militancy

The Soviet invasion of 1979 turned Afghanistan into a Cold War battleground. Pakistan, under General Zia-ul-Haq, became the frontline state, funnelling U.S. and Saudi aid to the Mujahideen through its Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI). Millions of Afghan refugees, weapons, and extremist ideologies poured into Pakistan’s tribal areas.

When the Soviets withdrew in 1989, they left behind a heavily militarized and radicalized frontier. From this chaos emerged the Taliban — products of Pakistan madrasas and shaped by decades of war. Backed by Islamabad, they seized Kabul in 1996, offering Pakistan “strategic depth.” But the relationship soured after 9/11, when the U.S. invasion toppled the Taliban. Their retreat into Pakistan’s tribal belt created sanctuaries for insurgents, and the region once again became a crucible of conflict.

Pakistan’s own insurgency soon erupted. The Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) waged a brutal campaign against the state, prompting military operations such as Zarb-e-Azb that displaced thousands and left the tribal belt devastated. U.S. drone strikes targeting militants inside Pakistan added another layer of resentment, keeping the frontier perpetually aflame.

Taliban’s return and renewed friction

When the Taliban returned to power in 2021, Pakistan believed it had regained its influence over Kabul. Instead, relations deteriorated. The Afghan Taliban refused to rein in the TTP, while Islamabad’s efforts to fence the Durand Line angered Kabul, which rejected any artificial division of Pashtun lands. Frequent clashes in Chaman, Kunar, and Nangarhar underline how the frontier remains one of the world’s most combustible borders — both physically and ideologically.

U.S. and the Bagram question

Even after its withdrawal, the United States continues to seek limited operational presence in the region, particularly access to bases like Bagram for counterterrorism missions. Pakistan, caught between Washington’s pressure and Kabul’s hostility, faces a strategic dilemma: cooperation risks domestic backlash, while refusal may strain Western ties. This triangle of mistrust — between the U.S., Pakistan, and the Taliban — leaves the region precariously balanced, with ordinary Afghans again paying the price.

Buddhist heritage and cultural continuity

Yet Afghanistan’s story is not only one of war. Long before the advent of Islam, it was a cradle of Buddhist civilization and Indo-Afghan cultural fusion. The Bamiyan valley, carved into the heart of the Hindu Kush, once housed magnificent 6th-century Buddha statues — silent sentinels of the Silk Road. Their destruction by the Taliban in 2001 symbolized the erasure of a shared heritage, but their memory endures as a reminder of Afghanistan’s deep historical ties with India.

For India, this connection is more than cultural nostalgia — it is civilizational continuity. It underscores a bond older than borders, one that places India naturally within the moral and cultural orbit of Afghanistan’s future.

India’s renewed diplomatic role

Between 2001 and 2021, India’s presence in Afghanistan was constructive and people-centric. It built roads, power projects, hospitals, and even the Afghan Parliament — gestures that earned goodwill across Afghan society. Unlike Pakistan’s security-driven strategy or the West’s military interventions, India’s approach has been developmental and humanistic.

The Taliban foreign minister’s visit reflects a pragmatic evolution. For the Taliban, engaging India offers diversification — access to aid, markets, and diplomatic legitimacy beyond Pakistan’s shadow. For India, it ensures relevance in Afghanistan’s evolving politics and helps counter any monopolization of influence by others. In a region where hard power has failed repeatedly, India’s soft power — rooted in education, culture, and development — offers an alternative template.

Recognising reality

The time has come for New Delhi to consider formally recognizing the Taliban as Afghanistan’s legitimate government. The downsides are minimal; the strategic dividends substantial. Engagement would not mean endorsement of ideology but acknowledgment of geopolitical reality. India’s influence, humanitarian outreach, and connectivity projects can only expand through official recognition.

Critics may argue that the Taliban discriminates against women and minorities — a valid concern. Yet, as many point out, Western nations too have often practiced discrimination, albeit cloaked in sophistication and diplomacy. Realpolitik demands engagement, not isolation.

Recognition would allow India to act as a stabilizing force — leveraging goodwill, promoting trade, and serving as a bridge between Kabul and the global community. Pragmatism, not hesitation, should define India’s policy.

A Cauldron Without Peace

The Afghanistan–Pakistan frontier remains one of the world’s most ungovernable spaces — where geography defies governance and ethnicity transcends borders. History has shown that no empire — Persian, British, Soviet, or American — has managed to tame it. Yet amid this chaos, India’s balanced diplomacy offers a rare thread of hope.

Unless Afghanistan and Pakistan transcend their historic animosities, this border will remain what it has always been — a cauldron of conflict, simmering at the crossroads of faith, empire, and destiny.

(The author is an Indian Army veteran and a contemporary affairs commentator. The views are personal. He can be reached at  kl.viswanathan@gmail.com )